


No Strings on Me

by Aesoleucian



Series: Incident Reports from the Usher Foundation [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Statement, The Web - Freeform, Usher Foundation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 14:18:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aesoleucian/pseuds/Aesoleucian
Summary: Statement of Miranda Holman regarding cleanliness issues at Swann's Park housing development, given July 16, 1989.





	No Strings on Me

Branch location: Usher Foundation Chicago, 1620 N Wells St.

Instance reported by: _Miranda Holman_  
Reporter initial and date: _M.H. July 16 th 1989_

Witness: _Jeremy Lindquist_                            ID#: _00954_  
Witness initial and date: _JDL July 16 1989_

Incident summary: _Cleanliness issues at Swann’s Park housing development._  
Description of incident: _(attached)_

 

[Transcript begins]

MH: In 1987 my husband was promoted—he worked as a power plant engineer, or, well, he still does—and three kids were a little much for our old house, so it was the perfect time to move. A friend had told us about this new housing development in Oak Brook—have you been to Oak Brook?

JL: Uh, no, it’s a little too nice a neighborhood for me.

MH: Well, yes, that’s what I thought. The Swann’s Park housing development seemed like the perfect fit. We liked their management, everyone who lived there was very friendly and had only good things to say about it, and the houses were just gorgeous. Very rustic, finished wood everywhere, wide lawns. We liked the local school. So we moved in as soon as we possibly could. The block even threw a welcome barbecue for us, which at the time I thought was very sweet of them. Everything was just absolutely pretty as a picture. I remember everyone was very huggy at the barbecue—now I know why, of course, but it struck me as a little odd. But I pride myself on being adaptable, so I started hugging my neighbors with the best of them. Some of them had little bits of something on their clothes, so I picked it off a few people’s shoulders—like I said, they were huggy, so I didn’t think it would be rude to touch them. But every time they would wrinkle their noses and back away. I guess I thought they were embarrassed they had anything on them, but really they just wanted to hang onto it.

JL: What do you mean by little bits of something? What was it?

MH: It was spiderweb, of course.

I’ve always been the only one who ever cleaned up around the house. I’ve gotten used to it, but it used to frustrate me. And especially in Swann’s Park, I could clean all day but by the time my husband came home most of the rooms had cobwebs in the corners again. I was just about tearing my hair out. I never saw a single spider, either. At least… I don’t think I did. But obviously they were there, even if I didn’t see them, so I marched to the management building and told them to get an exterminator in. They weren’t very good about it, they said if I hadn’t seen any spiders it would be hard to exterminate them, but after I put them in their place I did get an exterminator to come in. He went around the house sealing up cracks and putting down some powder he _said_ was poison. It didn’t help one bit. I went to management again, of course, but it was like talking to a wall. They kept saying there was nothing more they could do, although I did get a lot of little gifts as an apology. Pretty little statues, porcelain swans, that kind of thing. Of course when I tried to display them they’d get covered in those awful cobwebs. By the end of the year I swear I would see Andrew sit down in front of the TV and an hour later get up trailing those…

Well. A lot of people in Swann’s Park seemed to be covered in thin little spiderwebs when I started to look. I thought I was just seeing things at first—you know how they sort of flash and then disappear. Even the ground had them. It made the roads look… glittery.

I tried talking to one of the other new families about it. Samantha Gallagher moved in a few weeks after us, and she seemed to be one of the few people who could see how strange it was. Her house was filled with cobwebs too, and she could see them shining on the roads and on people’s clothes. She was even having… the same dreams as me. I’m sure you’ve heard all about people having strange dreams, all the ghost stories you get here. I never had a single recurring dream before I moved to Swann’s Park, and yet every morning like clockwork I would wake up from dreaming about trying to walk through this awful clinging spiderweb, unable to get anywhere at all because as soon as I broke part of it I would walk into more, and when I stood very still I could feel it vibrating, just slightly, like something was coming toward me—and when I woke up what do you think I found? In the nighttime one or two strands of spiderweb would have fallen across the bed. Almost so you wouldn’t have noticed it, but I’ve always had sharp eyes. And Samantha said the very same thing was happening to her. She was getting used to it, though. I guess not everyone has it in them to clean the house every day—she also had a part-time job. She was a typist, I think, although I can’t imagine why because they were very well off.

Do you want to know what happened when people got _used_ to the spiderwebs, Mr. Lindquist?

JL: Uh, yes.

MH: They got careless. And they got caught, and they changed. Now, when your husband works as hard as Andrew did, you come to expect that he won’t always listen to what you say. He would come home exhausted and half-listen to me while I told him about my day. I got used to his little agreements. Whenever I sounded happy he would, well, he sounded very sincere, the way he would say ‘That’s wonderful!’ Or when I sounded angry he would shake his head and say ‘What a _bummer_.’ Just like that. The reason I am explaining this, Mr. Lindquist, because I can see that _you_ are on the verge of nodding off listening to this silly woman’s silly story, the reason I am explaining this is that he changed. Now he listens to me with his full attention. And he says the same words he used to. But he doesn’t sound sincere any more. And don’t you think he’s found some young thing he likes better, either. I can see that’s what you’re thinking, Mr. Lindquist.

JL: I’m—I’m not, Mrs. Holman.

MH: The way he talks to the neighbors is just like that. And I’ll grant you I don’t know them as well as I know him, but their words ring hollow too. And the children… [ _shuddering sigh_ ] You cannot possibly understand how hard a woman works, Mr. Lindquist, to keep her home happy and clean. And my children were not happy. My youngest, Davis, almost every night he’d crawl into our bed sobbing his little heart out. I’ve never seen anyone so scared in my life, like he thought if we didn’t hold him he’d be torn to pieces or—or wrapped up and hang there in the dark, silently screaming until he—

JL: …Are you all right, Mrs. Holman? I can get you a packet of tissues.

MH: I carry my own. [ _MH blows her nose, sniffs._ ] His nightmares were worse than mine. My other two were too old to come running to mother with nightmares, but I don’t doubt they had them too. I wonder if they still have nightmares. Maybe they close those empty eyes every night and dream of webs. Or maybe every day is a nightmare for them now. Do you dream about being unable to move properly, being unable to get where you’re trying to go, unable to say a word? Maybe every moment they’re screaming for me to notice and tell them it’ll all be all right because I’ll save them. I can’t save them. I can’t even tell them it’ll be all right, because they would tilt their heads and give me that empty smile and say, ‘But it _is_ all right, Mom. Everything’s fine.’

They’re very well behaved, now. It doesn’t bring me any comfort, and no-one in Swann’s Park seems to notice because their children are all the same. A few months ago—it was in May, gorgeous weather—we all went to Bob and Angie’s new place in Wheaton for a housewarming party. Everyone kept saying how my kids were perfect little angels, but when I watched them playing with the other kids it was so… eerie. They wouldn’t roughhouse, even though Luke has always been a terror. They shook their heads politely and came back inside to listen to the grown-ups talking. Jeanette, who’s almost sixteen, impressed them very much with how adult she was. But I couldn’t be proud of her because I knew that wasn’t my daughter. She was mainly interested in badminton and running around getting muddy and I’d always told her to be more ladylike…

I should mention, at the party it was like night and day how different _real_ people were from the people at Swann’s Park I talked to every day. They made jokes that fell flat, they forgot people’s names, they knocked over their wineglasses. They say that to err is human. Then the people who live in Swann’s Park aren’t human any more. Just like my kids. They’re perfect. I got the thought in my head that maybe they’re being _controlled_ by these almost invisible strings. Like puppets. And even though my mind is still my own I’m bound by them too, because if told anyone I know they’d think I’m crazy. I’m not crazy, Mr. Lindquist. I am simply a very clean woman who will not tolerate cobwebs. And a faithful woman who will take care of her family no matter how long it takes.

JL: Um… thank you, Mrs. Holman. Have you considered moving out?

MH: My husband won’t think of it. [ _chair being pushed out_ ] Good afternoon, Mr. Lindquist. Thank you for your time. [ _door opens and closes_ ]

JL: Huh.

[Transcript ends]

 

Follow-up:

_Swann’s Park is one of several housing developments owned by Eudora Swann, née Antonia Spalding. Ms. Swann has never been married, but changed her name in 1973 after moving to Glencoe. Jeremy tried to schedule an interview with her and was told that she does not speak to the press, although she does seem to have been interviewed for feature articles on the opening of two of her housing developments. Those articles are attached. Jeremy did succeed in interviewing several residents of Swann’s Park, who uniformly loved living there and reported no nightmares, although Jeremy did confirm that many of them had what looked like spiderweb on their clothing and it was also visible on the roads. Those interviews are also attached._

_Recommendation: keep. It is likely that something genuinely supernatural is happening at Swann’s Park, which may imply Swann’s other housing developments are dangerous. Note that Swann also funded the study in the reports classified 1985-130, indicating an interest in ‘social engineering.’_

_R.T. 31 st July 1989_


End file.
